Emily was the next one up. Her morning routine was extremely long and detailed, as a fifteen - yea r r- old girl apparently needs hours to get ready to look exactly perfect for a normal day of school. The amount of time and detail she gave to her hair and makeup each morning rivaled what I assumed NASA gave allotted to building the space shuttle. When she was finally ready for launch, she sauntered out to the kitchen table for a waffle.

“Okay,” I said, sittin g now g down next to her with my , my cup of coffee freshly topped off . “ We need to make some decisions.” Hand me your phone.”

She took speared a waffle from the plate and eyed me. “ About What ?”

“ About our act for the talent show.” “You owed me an idea for the talent show,” I said. “Last night. Dinner was your deadline. And you didn't deliver.”

“ What??” Her eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline.

I held out my hand. “Hand it over.”

“ Oh, that's easy,” she said. “We aren't doing one.” Her expression was horrified. “No!”

“ Emily ? ” “So you have an idea, then?” I asked sweetly. “For the show?”

“ I'm not doing it .”

“ Emily?”

“ What?” Yes,” she said bitterly. “We should cancel it.”

“ Too late,” I announced. “Guess I'm gonna need your phone.”

“ Wait,” she said, her fork hovering in the air. I shifted so she wouldn't be tempted to stab me with it. “Hang on.”

“ Are you getting an idea?” I asked.

“ I'm trying,” she said, her eyes narrowed. She stared down at her uneaten waffle. “We just...don't have any talent.”

“ You don't have a choice,” I said. “We're doing it and if that embarrasses you, I'd suggest getting over it now because it's not going away. I'm organizing the show – for your school, that you so dearly love, I might add – and we are going to be performing in the show. Get over it. Today.”

Her shoulders slumped and I could see her shifting into whiner mode. It wasn't often that I felt the need to flex my mother muscles, but this seemed like an appropriate moment. I was sympathetic to her potential embarrassment, but I was doing all of this for her. If she wasn't at Prism and if she didn't like the school as much as she did, I would've been home with the other three kids, causing all sorts of mayhem. I might not have been volunteering at the school specifically for her, but I was absolutely there because of her and there was no way she was going to get out of participating.

Plus, I believed that a little embarrassment was good for the soul.

“ We don't have any talent,” Emily muttered, staring into an abyss of waffles and syrup.

“Nonsense,” I said. “There are plenty of things we are talented at.”

“I don't think that you cooking and me doing my makeup would be very entertaining.”

“Thank you for the backhanded compliment,” I said. “You know, the easiest thing to do would be a lip-synch of some sort.”

“The easiest thing to do would be to run away,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“ I didn't think so,” I said. “In high school You know , I actually came in second place in the talent sho w w when I was in high school .”

“How many acts were there? ” she asked. “ Three?

”

I gave her a withering stare. “Ha. Funny. I don't recall how many there were, but I do know that my friends and I came in second place for doing an amazing air guitar lip-synch version of Guns N Roses' “ ' Welcome To The Jungle. ” '”

She stared blankl y at me. “Guns and what?”

“Roses. Probably the most influential rock band of the modern era.”

She scowled at me over her plate. “Yeah, I've never heard of them, so they are probably lame .” ,” she said, scowling over her plate.

“Wrong,” I said. “They were the opposite of lame. The opposite of Justin Bieber and One Direction.”

“Like I even like them.”

“You get my point,” I said. “And as a concession to you, I will let you choose the music that we perform to.”

She grunted. “Great.”

“ So before we have dinner tonight, I will need an answer,” I said. “Deal?” And keep your phone.” She looked up and I added, “Provided you give me the name of the song we're doing. Tonight. At dinner.”

“ Whatever.” She sighed. “Fine.”

“ No. Deal?” I asked, pressing her. “I get the name of the song we're doing and you keep your phone.”

She pushed her plate away like she was about to vomit . “Fine. Deal.”

“ I'm glad to see you're warming to this Good ,” I said , smiling . It pained me a little to see her so obviously put out but she was being way too melodramatic for my taste. “Now, I need a little more help.”

If I'd stabbed her in the ribs, she would've looked less put out. “Now what?”

“I need the names of a couple of teachers who you think would might make good performers,” I said. “Teachers who are either popular or ones who you think who would be fun to see onstage.”

She drank some of her orange juice. “I don't know.”

“You know, we can just do the same number I did in high school . ,” I told her. “ Get some bandanas, some ripped shirts — ”

“ Oh god,” Emily s aid, shaking hook her head and staring up at the ceiling. “Fine. Fine. Did you ask Mr. Pendleton? He's not a total weirdo.”

I made a mental note of his name. “What does he teach?”

“History,” she said. “I haven't had him, but kids like him.”

“I have no n' t asked him, but I will today,” I said. “Who else?”

She thought for a moment. “Did you talk to Ms. Nordhoff?”

“She can't be there.”

Emily frowned. “I thought everyone , like, had to be there.”

“She has a prior commitment,” I explained. “She's playing in some poker tournament for charity and she can't get out of it.”

Emily snorted and the first thing resembling something that resembled a smile flitted across her mouth. “For charity? Yeah, right.”

“That's what she said,” I told her. “Some charity tournament for a friend that she committed to awhile ago.”

She snorted again. “I'm guessing the charity is her.”

“What are you talking about?”

She stabbed her fork into her waffle and took a bite. “She's practically, like, a professional poker player, Mom.”

I remembered Charlotte telling me that she didn't even know what she was doing and that she'd just signed up as a favor to a friend. “What?”

Emily nodded. “She's always playing on her computer. I know at least four people who say they've been in her office and seen it on her screen or like minimized on her screen or whatever. But she was playing online. And then Denny Bateman said his parents saw her up at River Star , at least twice. a couple of times. Denny said his dad actually played in a game with her. They sat at the same table or something. Denny said his dad said she was the best player at the table.” Emily smirked. “So I guarantee you she's not playing in some charity tournament. Or if she is, she can probably win money for herself. She's a total gambler.”

I leaned back in my chair. That was completely at odds with the way Charlotte had portrayed her involvement with whatever it was she was playing in the tournament . I wondered if what Emily had heard were rumors that had simply grown in size or if there was any truth to them. And if the re was truth to them y weren't rumors , why had Charlotte lied to me? I supposed that it could have been that she Perhaps she simply didn't want hadn't wanted to tell me she couldn't be at the fundraiser and was . Maybe that was her way of trying to let me down easy. Either way, the whole story that Emily had just told me was kind of odd.